


Healing Rodney

by respoftw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Hurt Rodney, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/respoftw/pseuds/respoftw
Summary: Rodney gets hurt off world and the locals offer to heal him.





	Healing Rodney

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the archaic medical treatment square of my bingo card

* * *

John paced back and forth, his hands gripping tightly at the butt of his P-90. The weight of it was solid and reassuring in his arms but that was the only thing about the entire situation that was reassuring.

“This is taking too long,” he said, not for the first time.

“Colonel,” Teyla was using her soothing voice, the one she used to diffuse misunderstandings off-world. Maybe it was the associations that came with it, but the tone always set John on edge. “Perhaps you would feel more settled if you sat down? I am sure that the Pynarans are merely being careful in their treatment of Dr McKay. They seemed very eager to please us and most apologetic that Rodney had been hurt in the celebrations. Trade with Atlantis would be advantageous to them.”

John nodded tightly, knowing that what Teyla said was true. The people of M87-PIJ were friendly, if not very advanced, sitting somewhere between the Athosians and the Hoffans in development. It was the type of mission that Rodney would usually have groused about as a waste of his talents but the rich ore which was buried beneath the soil of M8 - - _Pynara_  - -had him frothing at the mouth, his eyes lighting up in that excited way that John usually associated with ZPMs or a new shipment of chocolate. The Pynarans had seemed eager to trade and had welcomed AR-1 into their village with open arms, insisting that they be allowed to prepare a feast in their honour. There had even been dancing. Which was fun for exactly two minutes before Rodney had tripped over his own feet and turned his ankle.

Still, John couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He really wished that he had listened to Rodney and taken him back to Atlantis, even if the gate was six miles away and he would have had to carry him the entire way there.

Instead, he had let the Pynarans (as well as Teyla and Ronon) convince him that the injury could be easily treated here.

“I do not deny that I have witnessed Dr Beckett and his team perform many medical wonders,” Teyla had chastised kindly, “but my people, and those of other worlds here have managed to deal with minor injuries like Dr McKay’s for generations.”

Rodney had, of course, chosen that moment to screech loudly that his injury was not at all minor and that a blood clot could be forming underneath his skin at the very moment. A blood clot that could make it's easy to his heart or brain and kill him where he stood.

Rodney's words convinced John that his injury was nothing to worry about - everyone knew that you only had to worry when Rodney got quiet - and he had nodded in concession to Teyla and agreed that the Pynarans were likely more than capable of wrapping Rodney's ankle.

That was half an hour ago and John was another two minutes away from breaking down the door of the low hut the Pynarans used as an infirmary to see what the hell was taking so long.

“McKay’s probably making them crazy,” Ronon said. “Making them do it over until they get it right.”

“Yeah,” John muttered. “Probably.”

John continued to pace the hard packed mud outside the hut, deciding that he would give it five more minutes and then start demanding answers; with his gun if necessary.

Three minutes later, the village leader and a man that John hadn't met yet approached them from the south. Teyla and Ronon stood up and flanked themselves at either side of John.

“My friends,” Tyrir, the village leader greeted them jovially. “Allow me to introduce you to the best healer we have, Healer Gott. We wanted to be sure that your Dr McKay was treated by the very best. Your alliance with us is very important.”

John felt his shoulders relax a little. “Good to meet ya,” he nodded at Gott who shifted impatiently on his feet.

“Perhaps the introductions could wait until after I have treated the patient?”

“Of course,” Tyrir smiled apologetically at them as he ushered Gott into the infirmary. John craned his neck to see something, anything, through the door as they entered but was left disappointed.

“Perhaps you will be more willing to have a seat now?” Teyla asked.

It was probably about as close to an ‘I told you so’ as Teyla would ever get and John resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her.

The door of the infirmary opened again and Tyrir exited, coming over to speak to them.

“Not long now,” he said brightly, clapping his hands together. “We are very lucky that Healer Gott was available. Your Dr McKay will be like a whole new person when he's done with him.”

John nodded tightly, still unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Teyla stepped in, smiling warmly at Tyrir. “We are very greatful but you did not need to go to all this trouble. I am sure that your usual Healer would have done a perfectly fine job.”

“Oh, yes,” Tyrir smiled. “But Healer Gott has spearheaded a wonderful new method. The procedure will be much faster and easier with him carrying it out.”

“Procedure?” John honed in on the word that had made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He was conscious of the smile slipping of Teyla’s face and the straightening of Ronon's spine beside him but kept his eyes locked on Tyrir who seemed oblivious to the change in atmosphere.

“You will be very pleased,” Tyrir rocked on his heels in excitement. “From our observations of Dr McKay’s behaviour since you arrived, we had our suspicions. They were confirmed while Healer Brunt treated your friends ankle.” His eyes sparkled as he looked between them. “Dr McKay’s abrasive personality and his distemper are the result of a neurological imbalance. You are most fortunate that you came to Pynara as we have devised a procedure that will correct this imbalance, correcting the temperament of the affected person in a most pleasant manner. Healer Gott has refined this procedure tremendously, cutting down the time by entering the brain through - -“

John's mind caught up with the horrifying reality of what was happening just as he heard the first strangled scream from the low building.

Things got a little fuzzy for him after that. The only truly clear memory he has between the moment his mind screamed the word ‘lobotomy’ at him and finding himself sitting on a hard plastic chair in Atlantis was the sight of Rodney fighting against the hands that held his head still, strapped to a gurney with a long metal pick pressed under the skin of his eyelid, above his eye and Gott leaning over him with a mallet in hand, shouting at the other Healer to hold his head steady.

He thinks he remembers the sound of guns firing, of bodies hitting the floor but he couldn't be sure. He does remember the sound of Rodney sobbing, struggling for breath, caught in the grip of a panic attack.

John hopes he killed them all.

* * *

 

He startled at the sound of chairs scraping as Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth and Radek stood. Belatedly, he realised that Carson was there and he rose on shaky legs, waiting to hear the news.

Carson’s voice was rough with relief as he broke the expectant silence. “You got there in time."

John’s eyes closed in gratitude as he sent a prayer up to whoever was listening.

“I'm not gonna lie to you, he’s more than a wee bit traumatised,” Carson continued. “I think we all know that something like this would be the stuff of Rodney’s worst nightmare. I'll be advising that he talk to Kate before I clear him from work. But..physically he'll be fine. His eye will be a bit tender where he injured it from..well, I gather that he fought them when they tried to insert the orbitioclast. But it didn't penetrate his - -“

“His brain.” John felt nauseous as he finished Carson’s sentence when it became clear Carson couldn't.

“Aye.” Carson cleared his throat. “He's awake and talking if you want to visit. But keep it calm. One visitor at a time until he's on firmer ground.”

As if by unspoken agreement, they all turned to look at John.

John nodded, grateful to them for letting him go first, and stared to walk towards the private room Carson had sequestered Rodney in.

“John,” Elizabeth’s voice stopped him before he reached the door. “I've ordered the address locked out of the dialling program. Whatever happened there after - I don't need to know.”

John didn't know how to answer that, still not sure what had happened after he heard that first scream. Ronon answered for him.

“They're still alive. Getting McKay back to the gate was our first priority.”

John swallowed hard, feeling a weight that he didn't know he'd been carrying lift off him even if a part of him was screaming that he should go back and finish the job.

Elizabeth nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Give him our best,” she said softly before striding from the room. Radek, Teyla and Ronon followed her, Teyla stopping to rest her forehead against John's own before she left.

John watched them leave, squared his shoulders, and pushed his way into Rodney's room.

* * *

“Hell of a mission, huh?”

As opening gambits went it was terrible but Rodney huffed out a laugh so John counted it as a win.

Rodney's left eye was shot with red blood, making the blue of his iris stand out more than usual. It looked painful and John hissed in sympathy.

“It’s better than the alternative,” Rodney joked, the forced joviality in his voice cutting through John like a knife. “I know I have Jack Nicholson’s widows peak but I really hated One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest.”

“It's a receding hairline not a widows peak,” John retorted automatically, smiling absently at the Rodney's huff of exasperation. He collapsed onto the seat next to Rodney's bed. “But I'm with you on the movie. Depressing as hell.”

Rodney hummed in agreement. There was silence for a moment. Rodney broke it by shifting against the covers.

“I keep thinking about what would have happened if you had gotten there thirty seconds later.”

John froze. “Don't,” he whispered.  It was all John could think about too and he desperately wanted to stop.

“I can't help it. I - - I wouldn't want to live like that. I'd want you to - “ Rodney waved his arms expressively and John knew exactly what he meant, picturing himself pressing a pillow over Rodney's head and - - John rushed to the adjoining bathroom and emptied the contents of his stomach down the bowl.

God, no. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It didn't matter how much he knew that Rodney wouldn't want to live like that, there was no way that he could ever..

“Hey, it’s alright. I shouldn't have. I won't ever ask you to…I’m ok, I'm still your genius best friend.”

John realised he'd been babbling at the same time he realised Rodney had limped over to the bathroom and was now sitting on the tile floor with John's head in his lap. Rodney's hands were sure and steady as they stroked gently over John's head and John laughed at the ridiculous of it all.

“You're the one who…I should be comforting you,” he said.

“I agree.” Rodney said it with a smile. “But this is good too. It's actually the first time since - - comforting you is weirdly soothing.”

John smiled weakly. “That was my plan all along.”

“Right,” Rodney snorted. “I’d only believe that if they had actually succeeded in scrambling my occipital lobe.”

“Too soon,” John shuddered. “Way too soon.”

“Ok,” Rodney kept soothing his hand across John's hair until the shaking stopped. “I'm sorry. I just - - thank you for stopping them. If it hadn't been for you and -“

“If it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have even been in that position,” John spat.

Rodney's hand stilled for a moment before it continued its soothing motions. “True,” he mused.

John knew it was his fault, he'd been the one that refused Rodney's request to come back to Atlantis but hearing Rodney admit it hurt more than he'd thought it would.

“After all," Rodney continued, "if you hadn't been shimmying your hips like that, I wouldn't have tripped over my own tongue and turned my damn ankle. Where the hell did you learn to dance like that anyway? You didn't happen to moonlight as a stripper during college did you?”

John's mind shorted out for a second. “What?” He pushed himself into a seated position, peering at Rodney intently. “Are you saying that- -“

“Your slinky hips should be classed as a WMD? Yes.”

“Rodney,” John wetted his dry lips with his tongue, felling his heart beat faster as he saw Rodney's eyes drift down to watch. “Are you saying that - “

Rodney interrupted again. “That I have been nursing a case of unrequited attraction for you since day one? Yes.” Rodney paused. “The drugs Carson gave me to calm me down may be having a detrimental effect on my filter.”

John shook his head. “You really are an idiot.”

“I thought it was too soon for those kind of jokes.”

“Rodney? Shut up and kiss me.”

“Really?”

“Rodney!”

“Ok, ok, shutting up.”

Carson threw John out ten kisses later when he discovered the two of them still sitting on the bathroom floor, banning him from the infirmary for disrupting the healing process.

It was totally worth it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, John was really meant to be comforting Rodney at the end there but as I was writing he decided to fall apart instead....oh, John.


End file.
